Prom is tomorrow.

Girls roam the halls in packs, showing each other their freshly painted manicures and talking about how good they look in their dresses. It’s all they can think about. Boys talk about how they still have to get their tux from the dry cleaner and how they have yet to find a corsage. But all they can think about is what happens after prom, of course.

I’m sort of anti-prom. It’s not that I don’t have anyone to go with; I had several friends ask me to join their prom group. Last year I even had a date. But we decided not to go. Prom just wasn’t his thing, and nor was it mine.

I mean, I like the idea of dressing up. But I know I would do my own hair and nails and makeup. I wouldn’t go all out on a dress. And I’d hate for my date - or anyone, really - to spend a lot of money for one night. Plus, it’s four hours of stupid people and crappy music.

But what gets me the most about prom is the underlinings of what it stands for. It’s sexist. It causes drama (prama). It’s expensive. And it’s something else, too.

I was walking to lunch with one of my friends who is going to prom, and of course that’s what she was talking about. She was telling me that lots of people’s prom parties were getting canceled.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because they’re afraid they’ll get caught."

Caught with what? I was wondering. But then I realized as she said it.

"Alcohol."

Then she went on to explain how she hoped hers didn’t get canceled, and all this other prama. But I was still stuck on the alcohol.

"I just don’t see why people feel like they need to do that," I said.

"Well, because it’s fun."

After that, I stopped listening to her. Instead, disbelieving thoughts filled my head.

It’s fun? Fun? It’s illegal. What’s fun about being in a haze during prom, something that you’re supposed to remember forever but will forget because you were drunk? What’s fun about tripping over yourself in heels you couldn’t walk in in the first place? What’s fun about trying to drive home and wrecking your car because you can’t even see straight? What’s fun about some pud of a boyfriend taking advantage of you because you can’t do a thing to stop him?

I don’t understand.